


Reflections On What Was

by afteriwake



Series: Where Speech Ends [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly and Sherlock are having another date, and the topic of discussion ends up being Molly's past relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections On What Was

**Author's Note:**

  * For [horrorfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorfangirl/gifts).



> So this is the story that used the specific song suggested by **horrorfangirl** , which is "Everything" by Alanis Morisette. I think it describes Sherlock and Molly's relationship really well and I can see why it was suggested.

**Were you happier four months ago than you are now?**

It was very interesting trying to keep her relationship with Sherlock private. It was frustrating at times, but that was mostly because she could only talk about it with Mary, really. With her other friends she had to use vague references to the things she and Sherlock did, with absolutely no reference to him being her boyfriend. She was fairly sure her other friends saw her as a pathetic old maid in dire need of a blind date. She dreaded the day that her friends decided to actually do that. Sherlock would not take it well at _all_ if she was fixed up with some other bloke.

She knew occasionally her frustration shone through. She'd be a bit snippy with him, or drag her feet on plans. She'd make a comment here or there about how it would be much simpler if they'd just be open about it. It had happened more frequently in the last month, but it wasn't going to change any time soon, if he'd even noticed the little bits of her disapproval with the situation. She knew he had his reasons for keeping their relationship private, and her safety was a very large reason, and she respected that. Still, she just wanted to have a normal relationship. She missed that, even if she'd had very few normal relationships before this relationship with Sherlock. But she cared about Sherlock too much to walk away, and so she wrestled with it in her own head and heart.

Tonight was one of the nights that she didn't mind staying inside of one of their homes, though. There was a heavy storm that seemed to have come out of nowhere, and it was pouring down. She was honestly surprised Sherlock had been willing to leave his home to come over, but he said he'd promised her he would spend time with her as often as he could, and since he was between cases at the moment that meant he had quite a lot of free time. Yesterday he had surprised her by bringing her favorite meal to the hospital and enjoying lunch with her in her office, at least until she'd gotten the bodies from a double homicide and had to go back to work, and that evening he'd taken her to a play she'd wanted to see on the West End. They'd arrived separately, of course, and left alone, but during the play they'd sat next to each other and she'd even held his hand for a bit. It had been quite nice.

They'd been together for almost four months now, and she had mentioned he never once cooked and she wasn't even sure he knew how. When he said he was going to brave the weather to come over he told her not to take anything out for dinner. He would bring food with him. She had expected it to be something easy to make, but he surprised her by saying he was going to make shrimp fried rice. When he arrived and she saw he didn't have the rice already made she realized he was serious with impressing her, and that made her smile. He set up the rice and then began to cook it before cooking the shrimp. She was nearby with a glass of wine in her hand, taking an occasional sip. They'd been having an easy conversation, listening to music since his arrival. The song switched to one she knew for a fact he had listened to before since it had been on her iPod.

_I can be an asshole of the grandest kind_  
_I can withhold like it's going out of style_  
_I can be the moodiest baby and you've never met anyone_  
_Who is as negative as I am sometimes_

_I am the wisest woman you've ever met_  
_I am the kindest soul with whom you've connected_  
_I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen and you've never met anyone_  
_Who is as positive as I am sometimes_

“When I listen to this song I think she's describing me in the negative verses and you in the more positive ones,” Sherlock said.

Molly took a sip of her wine. “You do have your good qualities, though. At least when you're around me you do, at any rate. You have a very interesting sense of humor that you keep locked away, and you do actually do things that show you care. You make it a point to make sure I'm content.”

“And are you?” he asked

She nodded. While she was not happy to have to hide their relationship now was not the time to bring it up. “I am.”

She saw he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind. He must have realized that she wanted to add more to her affirmation, a caveat that she wasn't entirely happy. Maybe he had noticed she had moments of unhappiness. He looked down at the vegetables he was dealing with. “I don't think I've been this happy in a very long time. I know when you agreed to date me four months ago I had expected I would be so bad at this that the happiness would be short lived. I'm continuously surprised you're still here. As the song says in the chorus, you see everything and every part, and you're still here.”

She set her glass of wine down. “I care about you Sherlock, quite a bit,” she said as she got closer.

“More than other men you've been with?” he asked quietly.

“Most of them,” she said. “But I get the feeling you mean one man in particular.”

“Two, actually,” he admitted. “Moriarty and Tom.”

“Well, I definitely didn't care about Moriarty as much as I care about you,” she said, moving next to him and leaning with her back against the counter. “I quite liked him on our first date, but then on the second he kissed me and it felt...off. He convinced me to have a third date after I introduced him to you but I knew then there wasn't any point to a fourth and I told him no when he asked.”

She saw his grip tighten on the handle of the knife he was using. “He could have retaliated,” he said quietly. “He could have hurt you because you were a liability.”

“But he didn't,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “He left me alone because he felt I was completely unimportant in the main scheme of things. You and I both know he was wrong, of course, but he didn't know that.”

“He could have realized it by now,” he said.

“He probably has. He is quite intelligent,” she said. “But he hasn't retaliated yet, and he may never try. _But_ ,” she added when Sherlock opened his mouth to protest. “We can't be sure, so it's best to stay on the safe side.”

He nodded and turned his attention back to their meal. “And Tom?” he asked.

She thought for a moment. “It's not a matter of caring more, I think, mostly because I cared about you both in different ways. But I suppose if we're talking intensity of feelings, I feel more strongly for you. I don't see myself feeling less strongly about you any time soon.”

He appeared to relax slightly. “I don't want things to end between us the way they ended between the two of you.”

She studied him, and then after a moment she reached up and cupped his cheek, turning his face towards hers. She caressed it softly for a moment. “I don't want things between us to end for a very long time,” she said. “With him, towards the end, I wanted him to end things because I didn't think I would have the strength to end it on my own, and I would be trapped in a loveless marriage because of my cowardice. I cared about him, but I didn't love him. He deserved better.”

“So did you,” he said.

“And I definitely think I got better,” she said with a warm smile. “You try very hard, and I appreciate it. I know that actually doing this and meaning it is all new to you, and the fact you're trying with me means so much. You really are a very considerate boyfriend. Maybe the best I've ever had.”

“Even though we aren't publicly acknowledging we're dating?” he asked.

She nodded. “Even so.” She leaned in and kissed him softly. It was meant to be a brief kiss, a reassurance she did care, but he ignored the food and pulled her close, deepening the kiss. She melted into it and clung to him, focusing all of her attention on him until the distinct smell of burning rice pulled it away. “The rice!” she said as she pulled away.

He looked at the food and double checked the shrimp first, making sure it too wasn't ruined, and then he checked the rice. He sighed after a moment. “I owe you a new pot.”

She couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up. He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow, but she just laughed harder. Finally she got herself under control. “I'm sorry. It's just...the first time you cook for me and it's all my fault half the meal burns. I should know better than to be a distraction.”

He turned the heat off for the shrimp and then reached over for her again. “I'm sure there is a Chinese restaurant who will brave the weather to deliver food to us,” he said quietly, looking down at her. “We can order plain fried rice and add the shrimp to it. And maybe egg rolls and wontons as well.”

“And egg drop soup?” she asked.

“I suppose.”

“I like that idea,” she said, playing with the collar of his shirt. “But since we're going to do that, maybe I can go back to being a distraction.”

“Distract away,” he murmured, and she took the opportunity to kiss him again, not caring that it was still going to be some time until they got to eat. This was a _much_ more important way to spend her evening.


End file.
